They decided quite audibly, “She’s an Old Dear, anyhow. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. You might even tire of me by then, you know. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. " No sooner had Wood crept through the window, than nature gave way, and he fainted. "I understand," she said.
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